Practicing to Walk Like a Heron

Thinking of Yahweh During a Winter Thaw

20 Thinking of Yahweh During a Winter Thaw The weather has been in the forties, certain flowers still holding blooms as if on real good pot: tea roses hanging in the light, begonias holding to their burgundy and white, coleus stepping out from the melting ice like little topiary chameleons. I could use something in my own heart, maybe some unassuming jester sitting there, glad and full of jingles. When things turn unseasonable, no matter what the season, I start making plans to drive north without a map, wearing a stocking cap with a moose on it, stopping at a four-story, one-star hotel where an eighty-year-old pianist plays all night in a ten-table lounge. ...